Page 21 of Blood and Midnight
The place was something out of a fairytale. Southern live oaks and flowering dogwood trees circled a small pond, curtains of Spanish moss dripping from every limb. Bright pink azaleas bloomed at their feet, and a wooden footbridge arched across the pond like a pathway to a secret world.
A stone gargoyle sat at the water’s edge, catching my attention. It was an odd placement for a garden statue, and he reminded me of the one who’d perched on the cathedral at Saints and Sinners.
I never knew Elian had a thing for them.
As I approached the pond, a sense of calm washed over me. Removing the dagger holstered beneath my sundress, I took a seat in the grass beside the gargoyle, hoping he didn’t mind the intrusion.
We hung out in companionable silence for a few minutes, but as soon as I finished my chicory coffee, I was overcome with the inexplicable urge to talk to the guy.
Yes, the gargoyle.
Further evidence of Elian’s deleterious effects on my mental state, but for now, I was rolling with it.
“Tough talk, Gargs,” I said. “Am I acompleteidiot, or just three-quarters’ worth? Don’t get me wrong—it’s not like I came here expecting him to grovel. But is it crazy to trust him with this? He really wrecked me, you know? And not in the good way.”
I laughed and swatted away a mosquito, but before I could speak again, a wave of emotion rose in my throat. Memories bombarded me from all sides—memories I’d taken out and examined so many times before, all the edges should’ve been worn smooth by now.
No such luck. These babies were as sharp and painful today as they’d been the morning after he’d left.
Motherfucker. How was it possible I had any more tears left for the man?
I closed my eyes, letting a few of them slip down my cheeks. Prying open the door to the past was a dangerous habit—one I thought I’d kicked. Yet there I was again, cracking it open and peering inside. An inch at first. Then a foot. A little wider, and…
Boom. I was right back in Blackmoon Bay, shoving a cocky, silver-eyed fae off the edge of a pier.
“I was in a dark place when fate put Elian in my path,” I told my silent friend. “Even after I invited him back to my place that night, I thought we were just heading for a one-night stand. A little horizontal adventure to take my mind off the shitshow of my life.”
Itwasa shitshow, too. I was barely nineteen. The grandmother who’d raised me after my adoptive parents died in a car crash had suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack. No warning, no goodbyes. I was lost without my Nona—a complete disaster. I got mixed up in dark magick—lots of forbidden shit. Bailed on college, sold Nona’s house, and wandered the country until I finally ended up in Blackmoon Bay.
Turned out I’d been born there, though I hadn’t known it at the time. Somehow, the city had called me home.
I was looking for something, though. A purpose. A reason to get out of bed each day.
Instead, I foundhim.
“I know this sounds cliché,” I said, “but with Elian? It really was love at first sight.”
A week after our so-called one-night stand, I was moving into his apartment. A month later, we were already talking about New Orleans. About forever.
Sometimes, you just knew.
And sometimes, your intuition needed to be drop-kicked into the nearest dumpster and set on fire, but hey. Hindsight, right?
“I was with him for three years,” I continued. “Three of the most intense, mind-blowing, soul-shattering years of my life. God, even our fights were hot.” I gathered the hair at the nape of my neck and fanned my face, trying to convince myself the sweat trickling down my back was from the Louisiana heat andnotthe vivid memories of Elian’s tongue on my nipple, his hair tickling my stomach, one hand wrapped around my throat and squeezing—oh,fuck… just right.
We were good together in every way. No secrets—or so I’d thought. No shame.
“But one night I just got this really bad feeling,” I said. “He’d been acting strange all day, and even after he’d spent two hours in bed giving me the most intense orgasms of my life, whispering over and over how much he loved me, something still felt off. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like someone had ripped something out of my chest. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand—three-thirty-three AM. And before I even rolled over to check on him, before I trailed a hand across the sheets to touch his shoulder, a deep sadness washed over me and I just… Iknewhe was gone. Not in the bathroom, not out for a nightcap, butgone.”
Memories of that night tore through my heart, and I unsheathed my dagger, the familiar feel of the smooth bone handle steadying me.
“I got up and searched the place,” I said. “The only things missing were a backpack, his wallet, and some clothes. He didn’t even take his keys or phone. He left almost all of his possessions behind, yet I still knew he wasn’t coming back. It was as if our very connection had suddenly shattered—everything we’d meant to each other, everything we’d promised.” I turned the blade, catching the sunlight and reflecting it onto my face. “Losing someone you love is hard enough, but the not knowing? It makes everything so much more unbearable. You think you can handle shit, but the brainhatesa mystery. Things need to be solved. Cases closed. If you don’t have the answers? Your oh-so-helpful brain fills in all the blanks for you. And let me tell you something, Gargs—brains are mean little assholes. Be grateful you don’t have one.”
The breeze whispered across my shoulders, and I ran my fingers along the flat of the blade, the metal warm from the sun.
Elianleftme that night—I wasn’t stupid. He’d packed a bag. Fucked me like he knew it’d be our last time. But I still spent months searching for him. Scouring every fae and vampire club in the vicinity, asking every connection, friend, and supernatural neighbor we’d ever encountered if they’d heard from him.
After six months of bashing my head against nothing but dead ends, I was starting to think maybe I’d imagined him. Dreamed up my fae soulmate as some kind of manifestation of all the people I’d lost in my life. All the people who—by choice or the cruel winds of fate—had left me.
